The Oblivion
by RiderFromRohan
Summary: "Tom Riddle: the perfect monster. He was utter chaos hidden beneath a layer of perfection. Beautiful yet deadly. And we were going to kill him." Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley are sent back in time to Hogwarts 1944 to eliminate Tom Riddle before he can become Voldemort. But when Hermione is sucked into the sweet abyss of oblivion Tom has to offer, will their plans change? HG
1. A Meeting of the Order

The Oblivion

**Author's Note:** Yes, I know. I posted the prologue yesterday. But I couldn't stand the thought of it so it was taken down so I could redo it. This installment doesn't have a prologue, so it's not missing anything. I decided to scratch that prologue, try something different because honestly, the prologue was harassing me. Like I had one of them little angels (or devils) on my shoulder saying 'change it, change it, change it!' so I did. Sorry if someone actually liked it yesterday, but it just nagged me. So here's a revision – no prologue, only chapter 1 – and I think it's better and I hope y'all like it. And also, I'll try to make the chapters longer in the future too. Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters. They belong to that famous genius **J.K. Rowling**. Life would be so much fun if I could actually think up all that stuff but I can't, so kudos for her! Anyways… enjoy and R&R because criticism and thoughts are my BFF. Thanks y'all! Smile! ~ RiderFromRohan

Chapter 1 – A Meeting of the Order

The war is over and we have lost; lost to the evil Voldemort, lost to his imps, lost to the darkness of the world. Harry Potter was mercilessly slain at the hands of the Dark Lord and now we, the witches and wizards of our world, are powerless against his will. Some have given up completely and now hide their faces as they bow and beg for their lives. If it is a muggle born, then already that tiny slimmer of hope is lost because Voldemort seeks to extinguish those he sees as impure.

Like the evil Hitler, he is determined to create a master race and rule over the world. Nothing will stand in his way because he won't allow it, because he is too determined and too far gone. For him, nothing matters anymore save his own capabilities and plans. Even his most loyal followers are at his mercy. When Lucius Malfoy tried to back out of his binding contract with the Dark Lord, he was slain for all to see. The message was clear: if you value your life, you'll obey Voldemort no matter how dim the circumstances seem. Only few dare to defy him now.

I, Hermione Granger, am one of those few. Voldemort seeks us out, "the last of the rebels" he calls us. After Hogwarts fell, we knew we couldn't stay and that we needed to protect the last sliver of hope that we had: a Time-Turner. I have used one of these before, in my third year at Hogwarts, but I've come to understand that the strange medallion we now protect is one of great power. Great enough, I'm told, to send a person as far back as he or she wishes.

It is this medallion that we have come to discuss now. We sit in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix and the old home of Sirius Black, Harry's deceased godfather. I am one of the youngest here, being the only member of the Golden Trio to survive. It's comforting, though, to know that Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood have also survived and sit beside me in the old kitchen at the long table.

We are here with the other surviving members of the Order, including Kingsley Shackelbolt who now serves as Head of the Order. Kingsley holds the medallion in one of his large hands, it being bequeathed to him as Head of the Order by Dumbledore. It seems that Professor Dumbledore was more aware of what lay ahead in the future than Professor Trelawney ever was. I only wish it was him who showed us this medallion; that he still survived to see us through this "quest" that Kingsley promises to explain. Kingsley clears his throat and the room falls quiet.

"Good evening everyone," he begins in his deep voice. "I am glad to see that we've all managed to make it to Headquarters safely. As many of the senior members of our order know, the Time-Turner I hold in my hand is the key to an important indenture that may reverse the fate of many who have been lost to us at the hands of Lord Voldemort."

Beside me, Ginny Weasley tenses and reaches to grip my hand beneath the table. I look at her face and see a sudden sparkle in her eyes that I hadn't seen for months; not ever since the death of Harry. There is a cloud of whispers now in the kitchen as members of the Order lean into one another and say something in each other's ears. Ginny's freckled face is brightened by a small smile as she leans closer to me.

"Did you hear that, Hermione?" Ginny whispers excitedly. Kingsley says we could reverse the fate of the people we've lost to Voldemort! Ron, Fred, Harry… this Time-Turner could help us save them! We could bring them back and be a big, happy family again. Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful?!"

I don't want to ruin Ginny's excitement since it's the first time I've seen her smile in forever but I also remember what Dumbledore once told me about meddling with the forces of time. Everything comes with a price and from what I've been told the price of time is one of the heaviest you can bear. When I look at Ginny though, I feel her sudden rush of hope and can't help but feel it myself. Perhaps this is a price worth paying, so I won't say anything to Ginny.

"It'd be the best," I smile, squeezing her hand. Ginny glows with her newfound hope and is about to say something when Kingsley once again loudly clears his throat. The sound of hushed voices dies and silence in born. Kingsley looks stern as he resumes his speech.

"Do not take this task light heartedly, for it is a dangerous one. I am not sure that those who are appointed to carry it out will survive to see it through and/or see their families again." Hope is replaced by fear and Ginny grips my hand even tighter as he goes on. "It's not a task for the faint of heart and not all who are capable can perform it. It is a task for those who are young and willing, with a brae and loyal heart."

I could've sworn his dark eyes were looking at Ginny and me at that moment. He had just described two prominent Gryffindor traits, bravery and loyalty. I knew then that he already had an idea of who could bear the task at hand and my blood went cold. I wanted to look at Ginny and see if she was registering the same thoughts but I couldn't look away from Kingsley. I was yearning to hear what words would escape his lips now.

"I believe that I already know members of our order who are capable of performing what I ask of them," he continues, with a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I don't ask them to perform this task alone and will allow them to bring along a companion so that if they are in need of assistance, someone is there. Before I mention who I have in mind though, let me ask you this: can you face a young Voldemort alone, before he is full ensnared by the Dark Arts, and still be able to end him?"

Ginny's grip tightens so hard I almost cry out. But I cannot because I am dumbstruck by what Kingsley is proposing. It makes my blood turn to ice and my heart pound to a fast, tribal beat. My breathing turns ragged and once again whispers are being sent around the room. Kingsley is now watching Ginny and me openly, his eyes finding mine and reassuring my suspicions. He means to send Ginny and me back to the time of Voldemort's schooling at Hogwarts.

Not to kill Voldemort, but to kill Tom Riddle. To kill the person Voldemort was before he went completely off the deep end. And he wanted one of us to do it. He wanted a muggle born and the lover of one of Voldemort's victims to go back and end this mess before it could really start. To take the life of a young man who would probably be no older than me.

I looked at Ginny, ripping my yes away from Kingsley's and laying them on the redhead. Her face was ashen and her eyes stared blankly ahead. I knew what was probably going through her mind. She was remembering the handsome Slytherin boy from her first year; the boy who had fooled her into opening the Chamber of Secrets with his false caring demeanor and charming words. Tom Riddle: the perfect monster. He was utter chaos hidden beneath a layer of perfection. Beautiful yet deadly. And we were going to kill him.

Kingsley clears his throat and the whispers stop. It is quiet once again and faces turn to watch him. He stands, his chair magically sliding back. At his full height, he was massive. He once again locks eyes with me and I know that the moment of truth has come.

"Hermione, Ginny," he begins, taking a wavering breath before going on. "Can I entrust you with this mission? Can I trust you to go back and destroy Tom Marvolo Riddle, not to waver in his presence and fall prey to his charms? Can you do this?"

My breath catches in my throat. Numbly, I stand. Beside me, Ginny does the same. My legs shake beneath me and I fear my knees will give out. But my mouth opens and I answer in unison with my friend.

"Yes."


	2. July 11,1997

The Oblivion

**Author's Note:** Hey, y'all! I wanna say thanks to the people who reviewed this story and to the people who took the time to read this. It made my day to know that you guys actually liked it. Okay, so I said the chapters were going to get longer. This one is longer but it's not like super longer… I'm usually not so good with long chapters so sorry guys. They will get longer and in the future (not saying exactly) we'll start to have some parts in Tom's POV. It shouldn't be too hard to write like a psycho, right? We just won't have him calling anyone (or anything, for that matter) "my precious". He's a completely different type of psycho than Gollum anyways. That reminds me: if you get the chance, there's this crazy picture out there that compares LotR and Harry Potter with the idea of "father and child" - look it up if you ain't seen it! It's totally worth the two minutes. Okay, moving on from my blabbering, I have to put up this disclaimer: I am not the oh-so-amazing **J.K. Rowling** – or the awesome Tolkien for that matter (sigh) – so I own practically nothing except the plot and any made-up characters in the future. Anyways… please R&R and criticize if you find the need. I hope you like this next installment. Thanks y'all! Smile! ~ RiderFromRohan

Chapter 2 – July 11, 1997

August 29, 1944. That was the date Kingsley planned to send us back to. Two days before the term at Hogwarts started, two days to enroll ourselves with our false identities, two days to familiarize ourselves with Hogwarts 1944, and two days to mentally prepare ourselves for facing Tom Riddle. That was where my mind drew a blank. That was where my brain seemed to sizzle out and I couldn't think anymore.

I was ready for everything but Tom Riddle. I was ready to face everything but him. Ginny had volunteered to do most of the dirty work with Riddle but everyone else seemed to think that I'd do best with dealing with his personality. I suppose they're right. After all, Ginny is known for her terrible temper. She'd probably make an enemy out of him the first second she laid eyes on him. I knew she'd have good reason to after what happened in her first year but that was the opposite of what we needed. So it was decided that I be the one who carries out this quest of ours.

I'd have to be sorted into Slytherin, somehow or another. We all figured that Riddle wouldn't bother with anyone outside of his own house so we knew we had to find a way to get me into Slytherin. I had thought about researching some charms, perhaps one of them could trick the hat into putting me in there. Kingsley just shrugged and told me that the Hat was immune to such charms. I cursed myself inwardly for not knowing that.

Ginny gave me a simpler idea that we thought might work, but we weren't entirely sure. "It's easy," she told me. "Just think a lot of nasty thoughts about everyone and say you're a pureblood and that you'd be offended to put in a house with a bunch of mudbloods. No offense on the last part, Hermione – that's just how a Slytherin thinks."

"Maybe," Kingsley said. "But maybe not. The Sorting Hat's wise, wiser than it can sometimes seem. You must be careful when dealing with it; it can see what goes on in your mind."

"Then a mind barrier?" Ginny asked.

We were sitting in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place, lounging as we fine-tuned the details of our plan. We were still on the first part: who Ginny and I would be while at Hogwarts 1944. We definitely couldn't use our real names. Hermione Granger would be recognized by Dumbledore in the future and so would Ginny Weasley, but also there was already a Weasley there at Hogwarts at that time. It would be a recipe for trouble.

"No, it still needs to be able to hear what we think, remember?" I cut in. "Or else we won't be able to convince it to put us where we want. The whole thing would be ruined if I got put in Hufflepuff. No, we'll just have to think of some other way. I mean, there's got to be one."

"Oh, bugger," Ginny frowned. "I wish this wasn't so difficult. It'd be much easier if we could just go in there and shoot him down and be done with it. But no, Tom Riddle just has to be _Tom Riddle_. If there was just some girl he cared about, then we could just use polyjuice potion and pretend to be her. Then we could go in there and get him alone and then bam! And the devil's out of our lives forever."

"If it was that easy, then we'd just send someone else," Kingsley replied dully. He sat on the settee, turning the Time-Turner between his thick fingers and examining it closely. I remember when I first saw Kingsley. He was a big, dark man who was frightening to look at if you didn't know him. After I got used to him, though, I learned that he was a kind fellow – just a bit brooding and not much for humor.

"Well, what do you think Hermione?" Ginny shrugged. She sat across from me on a stiff old loveseat before the fire, tapping the book in her lap impatiently. I could see that she was tired of being wrong already and ready for somebody to come up with a solution. She was my best friend but she was also terribly tempered.

"I hate to say it," I begin, "but maybe it'll just be best if we figure that part out when we come to it. I'm sure we could convince the Sorting Hat when the time comes. The bigger problem is to keep track of our story. Who are we? Where are we from? What year are we? Why'd we come so late?"

"I suppose we should also be thinking about that," Ginny blushed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we should come up with our life stories and just worry about the Hat when it comes."

"Exactly," I said with a triumphant smile. "What do you think, Kingsley?"

"Do what you think is best," he shrugged. "It is you two who have to live with your decision if things don't work out. I won't know you anyways if you succeed and come back or you fail and don't come back. I just pray that you do what is right and are victorious."

"Thank you, Kingsley," I nodded, suddenly feeling depressed again. I hadn't thought about that. If we succeeded, nobody would know who we were and we'd be outcasts in a time that's supposed to be our own. Harry… who knew how Harry would be? The Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin in the first place, after all. Maybe he would be a Slytherin and hate our guts. And Ron… I was sure Ron would be a Gryffindor but he probably wouldn't have the slightest clue about who I was.

Ginny seemed to be feeling the same way, because when I looked up, she was staring at the blank cover of her book and biting her bottom lip. We were about to sacrifice _everything_ to go back in time to perform a deed that may or may not succeed and probably – if it did succeed – land us in Hell. This whole idea was starting to seem more and more costly than I originally thought.

Why couldn't this be someone else's job? Why couldn't it be somebody else that had to go back and kill Riddle? Why couldn't we just stay here at Headquarters? Or else, why couldn't we just live in a time before all this happened? That would be the best idea anyone could propose. It's not like I would be sad because I didn't get to be friends with anyone like Harry or Ron – I wouldn't have known they even existed if it was far enough back.

Sometimes I just want to curl up somewhere dark and never come out.

"So what should our names be?" Ginny finally broke the silence and I snapped out of my reverie. "Do you think we should keep our first names so we don't get all confused and everything?"

"Yes, that's probably a good idea," I nodded. "We should make our last names something easy to remember though. Maybe it would be useful for our sorting if we chose names that had a certain connection to the house we want. I know some Slytherin names."

"I figure it'll be best if I try to be in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. We're going to have to be communicating so it'd be a bad idea if I were to be put into Gryffindor if you're a Slytherin. Abbot might be a good idea, Hannah's a Hufflepuff. Or maybe Luna wouldn't mind if I stole her last name."

I laughed. "And what should I call myself? Should I be a Malfoy, a Black, a Crabbe, a Goyle, a Lestrange, or maybe even a Parkinson? Well, scratch the 'Malfoy' idea. Abraxas Malfoy is in Hogwarts in 1944. And there's probably a Crabbe or Goyle or something too."

"Yeah, that's right," Ginny grinned. "Maybe you could be a long-lost cousin or something. Maybe you came back to England after some other ministry got after you parents for being evil, pompous Slytherins. We've just got to make sure it's a pureblood name. Slytherins aren't fond of muggleborns, remember?"

"Riddle was only a Half-blood," I point out. "But you're right. Pureblood would probably be the best status for this. What about 'Black'? A long lost relative? We certainly know enough about the Black family history from staying here with Sirius. I could even take lessons from the portrait of Sirius' mother on how to be a royal pain."

"I just had a terrific idea!" Ginny jumps up from her seat and grabs my hands. "You were saying how we both know a good deal about the Black family history and we do! 'We', Hermione, 'we'! We could go to Hogwarts as Hermione and Ginny Black, two sisters who just got transferred from… somewhere. We'll figure that part out later."

I paused and then wondered why I didn't think up something like that. What would make more sense than two sisters to be enrolling together? It would be perfect. There was only one problem: Ginny and I looked nothing alike. My hair wasn't as bushy as it used to be but it still lacked the redness of Ginny's and I had no freckles at all.

"I suppose we'll have to change our looks, though," I nod. "We'll have to look somewhat alike and we wouldn't want to look the same in the past as we do now or else Dumbledore would recognize us, anyways."

"You're right! Oh, this should be fun," Ginny laughed and pulled me up out of my seat. "I usually hate doing all that girly stuff but what a ball it'll be to be completely different people for once! I've always wanted to try out a different hair color, anyhow. Mum just didn't want me to do it but now I have the perfect reason."

"Then we should set to work if we want to leave like we planned." And with that, Ginny and I left Kingsley in the drawing room and ascended to our rooms to restyle each other.

The person staring back at me in the mirror definitely didn't look like Hermione Granger and the girl next to her wouldn't be recognizable as Ginny Weasley. We both had thick, wavy black hair now and dark green eyes. Ginny's round face was framed by a 40s style bob that made her look stunning and my own hair was now long and fell to about halfway down my back. If I was someone else, I would have automatically called the two of us sisters.

It was the morning of our departure. I had a letter explaining Ginny and I's predicament in my pocket from our 'father' (Kingsley took on this roll), saying that we had to move back to England over the summer and that he wished for us to be enrolled at Hogwarts. He says he sent us early so that we wouldn't have to be sorted with the First Years like undesirables (a very Slytherin thing to say, I think) and attached a record of our grades – a true record, though now the school read 'Beauxbotons' instead of Hogwarts.

The belongings we had decided to bring along were packed and sitting on our beds. I only had my old trunk with a few supplies and a small bag filled with small, petty things like my brush and hair curlers. I wasn't sure of what Ginny had packed in her trunk and extra three bags but knowing Ginny, it had something to do with George's joke shop. She was starting to take a lot more after her older brother.

I turned away from the mirror with a sad smile and picked up my bag and slung it on my shoulder. Ginny followed suit and grabbed her trunk. We were quiet as we checked to make sure we grabbed everything and then went to the door. Taking a deep breath, I took a last glance at the room and then led the way out and down the stairs.

It was the morning of July 11, 1997. Within the hour, I would step into the unknown and into the sun of August 29, 1944.


	3. To Feel the Approaching Darkness

The Oblivion

**Author's Note: **Hey, y'all! I am _so_ sorry for not posting sooner! I've been super busy with everything and also suffered a bit from writer's block but here's the next chapter. It's not super long but I'm pretty pleased with it. Just so you know, the dates are going to be jumping around a bit from August 29 to September 1 in the next chapter – kind of like a 'flashback countdown' thing. I just hope y'all like. Thanks to **MaiWishes**, **princess-potterheadxo**, and **es99se** for reviewing this story! I was glad y'all liked it.

**MaiWishes**: I just loved your review and all you had to say! I like stories that go with the flow so I'm allowing this story to kind of choose its way but don't worry – it won't get all crazy and mess! And about the 'French accent' thing – I thought of that too. But in this chapter, you'll see that Hermione and everybody's already got a plan to cover up that type of flaw. But I'm glad that somebody caught that! Also, Hermione will _not_ be some coward who bends to Tom's will. She's not going to feel attracted to him all too much for the first while in the story – can't be moving too fast with these two since they're mortal enemies in the future and he ruined everything. She won't be a coward either if I can help it. She'll keep that gentle-nature Hermione thing but she won't be some coward. So thanks for your review and your thoughts and I'll think about the GinnyXAbraxas thing ;)

**princess-potterheadxo **& **es99se**: glad y'all liked it! Hope you continue too and will like this one better!

Disclaimer: nope, still no polyjuice potion so I can't pretend to be the awesome **J.K. Rowling** – she still has the ownership of all things Harry Potter that I ain't made up. Anyways, sorry for the long Author's Note and please R&R with your thoughts and feelings and criticize! Thanks, y'all! Smile! ~RiderFromRohan

Chapter 3 – To Feel the Approaching Darkness

_Hermione's POV – August 29, 1944_

Hogwarts loomed over my head as I approached the ancient gates, a piece of parchment crushed in my hand as I numbly stepped forward. The world was silent save for a gentle wind that blew through the Dark Forest, filling the air with a soft melancholy song. My heart felt heavy in my chest with the knowledge of what was to come. I would be sent to Hell for this.

"Should we speak to Dumbledore or Dippet?" Ginny Weasley asks from behind, a few paces back next to the small bags and our two trunks.

"Dippet," I replied instantly. In all honesty, I just didn't want to have to face Dumbledore yet. I didn't want to see his face, his blue eyes cheery and very well alive with excitement. I was afraid I'd break down and cry because of all the emotions that swirled in me.

There were so many feelings flooding my weary body that I couldn't quite distinguish all of them or determine their cause. There was a cloud of guilt hanging over my head, mocking me. I wasn't Hermione Granger anymore, I couldn't be. Hermione Granger would _never_ agree to go back in time to kill somebody – even if he had killed poor Myrtle. That wasn't me. I was raised to be kind and thoughtful and to never even think about such a thing as killing another person. So who was I?

"Do you think he'll believe our story?" Ginny asked, coming to stand beside me. I glanced over at her, surprised at first to see the uncharacteristic black bob. Everything came flooding back to me in an instant, though, and I grimly nodded in reply.

"Kingsley said that Dippet was a bit off," I shrugged. "Naïve and foolish – not very good characteristics for a Headmaster but good for two people wanting to carry out a plan like ours. It'll still take some thinking on our part but other than that, I think it'll be easy."

"I guess our biggest problem's that Hat," Ginny grumbled, turning away and going back to grab her things. "I suppose we should go ahead and get this over with before we forget anything."

I nodded and followed suit. I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and gripped the small handle of my trunk. I paused before calling on my strength to hoist the trunk halfway off the ground so that I could drag it on towards the castle. I stopped just before the wrought iron gates and eyed a small gargoyle that sat on the top of one of the stone columns.

"Uh… good evening?" I said awkwardly and the stone covering where one of its eyes was supposed to be slid up, revealing a stone eye of black obsidian. It stretched on the top of it's column and looked down at me. I swallowed nervously though I was used to such things as talking gargoyles and portraits. One guarded Dumbledore's office, after all.

"And who are you?" it asked in a creaking voice. "Another one of Headmaster Dippet's guests?"

"Not exactly," I shook my head and motioned to Ginny to step forward. "My sister and I are here to enroll. Would you let us through?"

"And why would you be here two days early? Can you not read a calendar, Miss-?"

"Black," I intervened.

"Ah, yes, Miss Black… well, can you not read a calendar, Miss Black? It is August the 29th of 1944! The term does not start till September the 1st. You'll just have to come back then." It then made as if it was about to once again nap on its post but I stepped forward quickly, frantic to succeed in entering the grounds.

"Then can you send Headmaster Dippet or a professor out? Let us talk to them? My father sent us early and he won't stand for us to be sent back!" Remembering I was supposed to be an obnoxious Slytherin, I added, "And neither will I. If you value what's good for you, you'll either let us in or send out a professor. Now let us in!"

It gave me a scathing look but then rolled its obsidian eyes and muttered something to itself. "Very well, very well, Miss Black," the gargoyle grumbled. "I won't be at all surprised to see you in Slytherin. You may enter the grounds but don't dally. Go straight to the headmaster's office, young ladies. No pit stops, understand?"

"Thank you," I grinned before I could really think it through. I was already messing up as a Slytherin… I hated to think what would happen if I was actually sorted as one. My cover would be blown within seconds. The gargoyle rolled its eyes unconcernedly and returned to its original napping position. The gates swung open without another word and, with a shared smile with Ginny, we stepped into the grounds of Hogwarts.

Ginny and I stood before Dippet's office and cursed where our brains drew a blank: the password. We didn't have to wait long, thankfully, because soon enough a semi-plump man came around the corner towards us. He was wearing long, crimson robes with black trim and his hair was only halfway slicked back. He froze when he spotted us and his eyes narrowed somewhat suspiciously. I immediately recognized him as Professor Slughorn.

There was a tense, awkward silence that hung thick between him, Ginny, and me. I opened my mouth but found that I had no idea to what would be right to say. Finally I decided to go with instinct and stepped forward, plastering a smile on my face and holding out a hand to him.

"Evening, Professor," I smiled. "My father's told me all about you. You'd be Professor Slughorn, correct? The potions professor and the head of Slytherin House?"

He looked baffled for a moment but then nodded and stepped up, taking my hand and shaking it heartily with a wide grin.

"Why, yes, I am, young lady," he gleamed. "I don't believe I've seen your face before – or the other young lady there, either. I hope you don't mind my asking, but just who would you two be and how do you know about me?"

"Hermione Black, Professor, and my sister Ginny," I pulled my hand away as I took control of the conversation. "We've come to finish our schooling at Hogwarts. See, we would have come here originally but our father encountered some difficulties and we moved to France when I was eleven. We've only just come back and have previously been enrolled at Beauxbotons.

"To answer your second question: my father attended Hogwarts and was a Slytherin. We're distant relatives of the Blacks currently attending this school and have been told wondrous things about you." What a lie that was, but wasn't that a Slytherin specialty? "Only, we need to speak to Headmaster Dippet. You wouldn't mind getting us a conversation with him, would you?"

"Not at all, not at all, Miss Black; I'll go speak to him right this instant! You and your sister just wait right there and I'll tell him."

"Thank you, Professor." To reassure him, I smiled as warmly as possible. He seemed to take my word for it and bustled onward to the statue that guarded the entrance to Dippet's office. It was silent once again outside the entrance and Ginny strode to stand beside me.

"Hermione, that was bloody awesome," she breathed and looked at me with a huge grin. "He believed every word you said! I mean, I know Slughorn is already gullible but that would fool even Dumbledore. And if it would fool Dumbledore, then it would most definitely fool old Dippet – especially if he's as off as Kingsley said."

I nodded, a bit baffled myself. My performance had surprised even myself and I couldn't help but feel at least a little bit proud. I didn't even have to think about it – it just came out naturally. It was almost like I was used to it. But Hermione Granger didn't lie.

My earlier thoughts of how it felt like I was someone completely different came rushing back in. Once again I had to question myself, who was I now? It sounded so silly to think such a crazy thing but it was true. I wasn't myself. I was some stranger who'd taken control of Hermione Granger's body. I closed my eyes and Ginny seemed to sense my change in mood. She laid a hand on my shoulder.

"I almost feel bad to come like this," she said gently, "to come just to kill him. I remind myself of all that he's done and how he played me in my second year… but I can't help to also remember the times he pretended to care and was almost sweet. I hate to admit it, but I had this crazy crush on him even if he was just a memory hidden in a diary. He was _perfect_."

"That made him the perfect monster, though, didn't it?" I acknowledged quietly. "He was so amazing on the outside that nobody would even think that there was some vile monster hidden just beneath that layer of perfection. He was so perfect he was bound to screw up."

Ginny was silent and we waited in silence. My heart gently pounded in my chest and I closed my eyes. My head was starting to be filled with a searing pain and I felt sick to my stomach. There was so much on our shoulders. I had dealt with enormous piles of pressure on my shoulders before but I had never been given the task of killing another. How was I supposed to do this? I knew I had to, but how?

_Tom's POV – September 1, 1944_

The Hogwarts Express rumbled along the railway, smoke escaping from the engine in puffs of gray clouds that matched the overcast skies. There was a promise of rain in the air as well as a hint that bad weather was on its way. Glancing out the window, I felt the foreboding it spoke of. I fingered the Slytherin ring on my finger instinctively, pondering over the nauseating feeling of anticipation in my stomach.

Something was about to happen, something big. I could feel it in the air of the train, through all the laughter of students and the smell of sweets being rolled down the aisle on the trolley it persisted. Like a mosquito that wouldn't leave you be no matter how much you swat at it, it stayed. It was persistent and unrelenting. I usually wasn't one to fall prey to such animal instincts but this year, my seventh and last at Hogwarts, I had a lot to lose.

After the incident with the basilisk, Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts, seemed to become increasingly suspicious. It's no secret that the man has been cautious of me ever since my arrival at Hogwarts even though he was the one to fetch me from the orphanage six years ago so that I might attend. He knew of my darker side that I managed to hide from others and was all too aware that I hid something.

If not for the easy target of that monster-loving oaf, the half-giant Hagrid, I would have undoubtedly been blamed by Dumbledore for the killing of that girl, Myrtle. The basilisk was, indeed, to blame for her death, but the ghost of Myrtle would never reveal such a fact. And even if she did, nobody would believe her. She was always considered 'off', no matter how smart she was in her classes. There was the chance Dumbledore would believe her, but if he was to say it no one would believe him either.

I was backed by most of the teachers at Hogwarts and many students had managed to become fooled by the person I created. The Tom Riddle they saw on the surface was not truly me, only a precautionary act to disguise what went on in the background. My ambitions were anything but holy. Even I would admit they were dark and most would find them outright evil. Such plans needed to be kept hidden until they were strong and unbreakable.

I already had students loyal to my cause at Hogwarts, a select group of my fellow Slytherins that I know will follow obediently without question. Not even they know the truth behind Myrtle's death, though. Things have escalated at a rapid rate, a rate that alarms even me. This whole ordeal, though, is one that cannot be stopped once it is put I motion. I must see it through to the end, even if it means my own.


End file.
